


Turning Point

by Aicnerys



Series: Warp, Mend, Warp, Repeat [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aicnerys/pseuds/Aicnerys
Summary: After the fall of Tol-Sirion, when Melkor finds Mairon, he decides to toss him to the orcs for an hour for punishment.He regrets it.





	Turning Point

**Author's Note:**

> Some actual hurt comfort and relationship progress.
> 
> Maybe.

Melkor found Sauron hiding in his cabin after his defeat at Tol-Sirion in a disgraceful state. In the shape of a wolf was his lieutenant, a small, ruddy thing, fearful of Melkor’s approach. 

“This does not reflect well on you, Lieutenant.” Melkor growled. His Maia had failed, and instead of prostrating himself before Melkor and begging for forgiveness, he was here, hiding and cowering like some pitiable member of the Children. Mairon slowly changed his fana to that of his preferred shape, and, on shaky knees, prostrated himself before Melkor.

“Please, Master, show this humble servant of thine compassion.” Mairon murmured, his voice hoarse and ragged. “I hath failed thee, and subject myself to thy mercy.” Mairon had slipped into more formal speech.

“Do not speak like that, Mairon.” Melkor ordered. “It reminds me of my fellow Valar.” Mairon stiffened, and seemed to go perfectly and utterly still.

“Yes, my lord.” Mairon said blankly, head lowered, hair obscuring his face. 

“Look at me, Mairon.” Melkor snapped, having grown irritated with Mairon’s submissiveness. He preferred a Mairon that would fight him, not the groveling wretch before him.

When Mairon looked up, Melkor saw nothing in his eyes, only a singular blankness and lack of connection to the world around him. The once molten and luminous gold of his eyes was flat and dull. Melkor’s brows furrowed. It had been a year since Mairon’s defeat; why was the Maia in such a state? Yet his fury at the craven Maia before him shoved such thoughts away, and he could only think of how he had lost a Silmaril because of the coward before him.

“Come.” Melkor ordered. Mairon stood unsteadily, only to fall to the ground immediately. With an exasperated sigh, Melkor, using the remnants of his powers as a Vala, now that the wretched Silmarils had robbed most of his abilities from him, whisked them both to Angband.

~~~

Melkor placed them within the throne room, Mairon in front of the dais and he himself upon his throne. The orcs gathered quickly, to see the proud Maia dazed and on his knees. Gothmog was to Melkor’s left, Thuringwethil beside him. Normally, Mairon would be to Melkor’s right, but that was not the case.

“Mairon, what have you to say about the loss of Tol-Sirion?” Melkor asked, the force of his voice silencing the entire chamber.

“The hound Huan, aided by Luthien, defeated me, my lord.” Mairon said, voice as flat and lifeless as before. “There is no excuse for my failure, nor my cowardice in choosing to hide from you. I only request that my punishment not lessen my usefulness to you.”

“Orcs.” Melkor said, addressing the crowd. “Use him as you will for the next hour.”

“That mean we get to fuck him?” An orc yelled from the crowd. Both Gothmog and Thuringwethil looked at Melkor, seeming to seek reassurance that that was not what Melkor had in mind.

“Yes.” Melkor said. “But only for an hour. No longer. He is useful, and I seek not to permanently loose such a useful servant.”

The cries of the orcs were thunderous, and Mairon’s head snapped up to look at Melkor with fear. If the Maia had something to say, he had no chance to actually say it, as he was grabbed by a particularly eager orc, who tossed him bodily into the crowd. 

Melkor watched, impassive, as Mairon was stripped and penetrated in a variety of ways. Sometimes one, sometimes two, rarely even three cocks ended up pushed into his lieutenant’s mouth and ass, sometimes once at a time and sometimes at the same time. As the hour wore on, some orcs didn’t even bother trying to fuck the Maia, but rather chose to spend themselves on top of him. Mairon, to his credit, neither screamed nor begged, but simply allowed himself to be battered around by countless orcs. Melkor could not see the Maia’s face well, but it seemed as if his lieutenant was anywhere but where he was.

And although Melkor could not admit that he wasn’t being to become at least a little fascinated, there was something about how blank and empty Mairon was that sent a curl of worry through him. But once again, his fury at the loss of a Silmaril, compounded by Mairon’s absence, pushed it back.

The hour passed surprisingly quickly, so fascinated Melkor had become by Mairon’s punishment. However, now that it was over, and he had ordered away the orcs, leaving the throne room deserted, he turned to Gothmog and Thuringwethil.

“Take him to the healers.” Melkor bade them. “He shall resume his normal duties once he has recovered.” He rose and left, pretending not to notice the look shared between Thuringwethil and Gothmog.

~~~

It had been three weeks since he’d seen his lieutenant, and now, when Melkor was actively looking for him, he couldn’t seem to find him. So he went to the infirmary.

Vaswe, the Maia in charge of the healers, took an androgynous fana, with hair and skin white as snow and eyes as red as blood. Ze was making tinctures and healing potions when Melkor strode into the infirmary.

“Where is my lieutenant, Vaswe?” Melkor said, striding into the near empty infirmary. Vaswe regarded him with a cold stare, and slowly, much as a cat would knock an object off a table after one has explicitly told them no, Vaswe shrugged zir shoulders.

“Vaswe wouldn’t know, liege.” Vaswe said unctuously. Melkor glared at zir, but Vaswe was, as always, unmoved. Vaswe had joined Melkor not for any particular reason, but merely because the Maia had, upon being struck by whatever strange whims drove zir to do anything, chosen Melkor over Yavanna. There was nothing Melkor could possibly do to intimidate zir, although that wouldn’t stop him from trying.

“Vaswe, I ordered him sent here.” Melkor spat out. “Tell me where he is.” Vaswe sighed and rolled zir eyes.

“My lord, this one is but a humble healer. However, in Vaswe’s humble opinion, the lord should refrain from seeing Mairon until Mairon is fully healed.” Vaswe said, neatly storing the various bottles in their assigned locations.

“It’s been three weeks, Vaswe. He is a Maiar. Why isn’t he healed yet?” Melkor growled. Vaswe regarded him with a flat, murderous stare.

“The Maia is not healed yet, Vaswe thinks, because his mind is too scared to return. Until this one can say the lieutenant’s name and receive more than a flinch or dead stare, Vaswe must continue to declare the lieutenant yet injured and unable to report for duty. Vaswe bids the lord a good evening, as ze must take zir leave now.” Vaswe snapped, walking brusquely straight past Melkor.

“Wait, Vaswe.” Melkor called, a trickle of worry winding through him, finally able to exist within Melkor’s conscious mind now that his rage over losing the Silmaril had abated. Vaswe halted, halfway down the hallway, and turned to face Melkor.

“What else it is that the liege would like to ask Vaswe?” Vaswe asked, irritated. 

“I wish to see him.” Melkor said. Vaswe shrugged.

“Vaswe would let the liege see the Lieutenant, but, alas Vaswe does not wish to anger zir other superiors.” Vaswe said. Melkor could think of only two people Vaswe would consider zir superiors besides himself.

“What do Thuringwethil and Gothmog have to do with this?” Melkor asked, beginning to get irritated himself. Vaswe was overly fond of obfuscation and talking around the point and Melkor preferred straight answers.

“They, along with Vaswe, are deeply worried for Mairon, and worry that the lord’s presence would be more harm than help.” Vaswe informed Melkor. “Now, this one wishes to nap.” With that, Vaswe had turned into an albino feline and run off to only Eru knew where.

~~~

“Vaswe said that if I wished to see my lieutenant, I would have to speak with you two.” Melkor said by way of greeting. He had called Gothmog and Thuringwethil to a private meeting in a smaller room normally used for one-on-one meetings or small groups. He would’ve summoned Vaswe as well, but sometimes Vaswe didn’t even respond to his own name, so Melkor hadn’t bothered. Thuringwethil frowned.

“Technically, you could see Mairon. I doubt he would respond.” Thuringwethil said hesitantly. Melkor sighed.

“First Vaswe, and now you. What, exactly, prevents my lieutenant from returning to his duties?” Melkor asked. The worry from earlier was stronger now, a curling presence that flared whenever he thought about Mairon.

“Mairon is currently catatonic, my lord.” Gothmog offered, and if it was meant to be helpful, it had failed at that.

“Catatonic? That is possible for an Ainu?” Melkor asked, uncertain.

“You were catatonic after you returned from Mandos. Although, Vaswe said it was a different type of catatonia. Something about hyperactivity without focus versus a lack of responsiveness.” Thuringwethil added.

“Since that has been established, may I see Mairon?” Melkor asked. Thuringwethil and Gothmog exchanged a Look (™), before Gothmog shrugged.

“As you wish, my lord.” Gothmog said.

~~~

Thuringwethil and Gothmog had other matters to attend to, so they showed Melkor to the chambers Mairon was in before having to leave. 

Melkor wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t to see his most loyal follower, his most trusted commander laying on his back, eyes open but unseeing, brow furrowed in worry at some unknown cause. Melkor went and sat the the bed, careful of Mairon, and reached to touch his fiery hair, only to stop himself and hesitate.

“Mairon?” Melkor asked, hesitant. “Mairon, are you…” Mairon flinched, and Melkor immediately stopped speaking. He set his hand back down and was pensive.

Melkor sat there for a long while, deep in thought. Eventually, he sighed, and attempted to smooth out Mairon’s furrowed brow. He could, he found. 

“Mairon… I think it is my fault.” Melkor said, smoothing Mairon’s hair away from his face. “I should have treated you far better than I actually did.” Melkor glanced at the curtained window, and noticing how much time had passed, stood to leave.

“Ah, Vaswe was not expecting to see the lord so soon.” Vaswe said smoothly, slipping into the room. “Hold these things for Vaswe, ze thinks ze has a treatment.” Melkor was instantly interested. Mairon seemed to be in a half-alive, half-dead stupor, and seeing his lieutenant there, lifeless yet drawing breath, made Melkor fear that at any moment, Mairon’s eyes would slip shut and he would be gone.

Vaswe shoved a leather case into Melkor’s hands while pulling on a pair of gloves. Melkor knew that Vaswe was a fastidious creature, and the Maia had a reputation for sanitation and cleanliness, one reason why ze was such an effective healer.

“Vaswe has been trying to funnel Mairon energy. Sometimes Gothmog and Thuringwethil help. Vaswe sees some improvement, but Vaswe thinks it is because Vaswe, Gothmog, and Thuringwethil are not compatible enough that there is not more.” Vaswe noted as ze funneled a portion of zir energy into Mairon. Mairon tried to sit up a little, but stopped after barely lifting himself, and then held that position.

“May I try?” Melkor asked, hesitant. Vaswe shrugged.

“Vaswe doesn’t think it could hurt. If you will do that, then this one must visit the Vaswe-dimension now.” The healer said, snatching up his case from Melkor’s arms and disappearing off into the aptly-named Vaswe-dimension.

Melkor turned back to Mairon, and gently raised him into a full sitting position. Carefully, Mairon gave some of his own energy to Mairon, tracing down the pathways of the Ainu’s own power and finding that it mingled with his in a soothing way, making the pain in his body lessen so much that he wondered how he had ever gotten accustomed to it. 

And as it helped Melkor, it seemed to help Mairon, and the Maia leaned into his shoulder, reminding Melkor of that time in the cabin, when Mairon had left him, only for Melkor to find him looking refreshed and wild and alive.

So Melkor kept giving Mairon that trickle of energy and holding the Maia close, until eventually, Mairon wrapped his arms around Melkor.

It made Melkor uneasy, for he had forced Mairon to stay after taking him against his will, and though he had not done it often for it always, always caused guilt in its wake, this reminded him of those times.

“I am sorry for what I have done Mairon.” Melkor said softly. “I… I never seem to remember that when I feel incensed or lustful and I always pay for it.”

Mairon rested his head in the crook of Melkor’s neck. He had done that after Melkor, still driven to madness by the burn of Silmarils, raving madly about how he would show Mairon the price of disobedience, had taken him by force over the course of several days. After Melkor had begun making Mairon stay after sex, the Maia often sought physical comfort from Melkor.

And Melkor, although he was loathe to admit, sought the same, as if to try and fix whatever he had broken. But this? He couldn’t fix it. 

So Melkor stopped funneling his energy into Mairon and laid him down gently, before laying beside him and pulling Mairon close. Mairon’s eyes were closed, and his breathing even and deep.

“My lord, anything but that.” Mairon spoke suddenly, eyes opening wide in shock and fear. “Please, please don’t.”

“Mairon, what--” Melkor began, only to be interrupted.

“No, no, no, please don’t my lord, I’ll do anything just…” Mairon couldn’t even finish his sentence, panicked as he was.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mairon.” Melkor told Mairon, attempting to soothe the panicked Maia. He kept his arms carefully still, to try and indicate to Mairon that he was telling the truth.

“Is there anything that I can do to prove to you that I am sorry?” Melkor asked, hesitant. A strange fire entered Mairon’s eyes.

“Yes, actually. There is.” Mairon said, suddenly calm and collected. Without warning, he tore the iron crown from Melkor’s forehead and tossed it carelessly aside. Melkor moved to push him off, only for Mairon to place a hand over his neck and push down.

“I disagree, my lord.” Mairon told Melkor smoothly. Mairon’s hands fisted in Melkor’s hair, and Melkor’s head jerked back because of the pain.

“Not fun being on the receiving end, is it?” Mairon teased, nipping at Melkor’s throat. Melkor hissed. He should shove the Maia off and leave, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to. When Mairon let go of his hair, Melkor thought it would be a relief, but the he found himself pushed off of the bed and onto the ground,Mairon on top of him, almost tearing apart Melkor’s robes while undressing him. Mairon was still in a dark robe of thin fabric, but Melkor was entirely bare now. Roughly, Mairon shoved fingers into his mouth and ass at the same time, pumping them in and out in an erratic rhythm.

“We so often fail to discuss the problem in our relationship, my lord.” Mairon crooned,fingers working artfully inside Mairon. Melkor couldn’t recall when Mairon had acquired that particular skill. 

“You see, we both seem to find the other attractive.” Mairon continued smoothly as he removed his fingers from Melkor and entered him, setting a rough pace, causing Melkor to moan loudly as the fullness and pain of it. “But I have wants which you so often seem to forget exist, which have culminated into this debacle. I’m not going to always assume this position, but I think you need to know what it is to be used and left wanting, my lord.”

After that, the only sounds were the sound of flesh against flesh and the occasional moan or gasp from Melkor. The heat within him was building to climax, and Melkor might have come, but Mairon, seeming to sense that Melkor was close, wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and squeezed, stopping Melkor from coming.

“Think of it as payback for times you left me wanting for release, my lord.” Mairon said in that infuriatingly smooth way of his. Melkor hissed, twisting under Mairon.

“I’m close.” Mairon said simply. Melkor dropped back to the floor, Mairon continuing to fuck him roughly until the Maia stilled, and Melkor could feel the Maia’s come inside of him, and it was a strange feeling, and he didn’t think he particularly liked it.

“I want to get cleaned.” Melkor said. Mairon laughed, releasing Melkor’s cock.

“No.” Mairon said lightly, and pulled Melkor onto the bed and joined him under the covers.

“Now, let’s not do that again.” Mairon muttered, wrapping his arms around Melkor and resting his head in the crook of Melkor’s neck.

Melkor had to agree with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys, serious question: Is Vaswe a yay or nay? 'Cause if ze sucks, ze doesn't have to stay, but I needed a healer in Angband and ze just sort of... happened. I like ze, because is like a catto, but at the same time, I worry that ze doesn't quite fit. 
> 
> Besides from that, next on my agenda: After Melkor is released from Mandos!


End file.
